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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188822">What are you cooking?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungKim/pseuds/seungKim'>seungKim</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ENHYPEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Baking, Cooking, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Heeseung loves cooking, Honestly i dont know how to tag this, I am getting good at fluff omg, I guess you could say cute?, M/M, Sunghoon doesnt know how to cook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:54:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungKim/pseuds/seungKim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunghoon is a fast learner when it comes to cooking, and Heeseung is a good teacher.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Heeseung &amp; Park Sunghoon, Lee Heeseung/Park Sunghoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What are you cooking?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i tried my best sjaksjaj sorry in advance if there's some mistakes here and there.</p><p>typographical, and grammatical errors are present. english is not my first language.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Excuse me," someone says to his right.</p><p>Heeseung looks up and sees a young man standing beside him, staring morosely at some tomatoes. "Do you know how to find good ones? They all look the same." His gaze flicks to Heeseung's face before it drops back to the box of product.</p><p>The stranger's arms hang at his sides, limp, everything about his posture radiating a sense of bewildered helplessness. Heeseung resists the impulse to tuck in his shirt label and pat him on the head.</p><p>"Did you just start college?" Heeseung guesses.</p><p>"What? No." He scratches the back of his neck, right above the wayward tag. "I graduated a few months ago."</p><p>Heeseung looks at him for another second before he chuckles. "Move over," he says, nudging the stranger aside. Heeseung feels his way through the tomatoes with expert speed and turns to hand over one that is satisfactory, only to find that he's being watched with something akin to awe. "Well? Take it," Heeseung says, gesturing. The tomato is lifted from his open hand. "Feel it with your fingers, like this," Heeseung picks up another tomato to demonstrate, "that's the kind of texture you—it's not going to bite you, you know."</p><p>The pale young man jumps a little and gingerly places the tomato back into the box, then laces his fingers behind his back. "Maybe I'll just...make something else," he says, turning away in feigned disinterest.</p><p>"What were you trying to make?"</p><p>"Food."</p><p>Heeseung cocks his head, smiling at the slightly-dejected slump of the stranger's shoulders. "Do you want me to show you around the store?"</p><p>He finally turns and meets Heeseung's eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do?"</p><p>Heeseung just smiles at him. "I like shopping."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"My roommate said he would move out unless I learned how to take care of myself," the man says. He seems relieved to be relegated to cart-pushing duty.</p><p>"Well, what are you good at?"</p><p>"Eating."</p><p>Heeseung scoffs and pushes his shoulder, lightly. "You should probably start with cookies. They're easy. Baking aisle's over here."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Heeseung sends the pale young man to the cash register with a few coupons he had left over and his cell number. "The recipe's pretty easy, but call if you need any help."</p><p>"Let me give you my cell number, too," the other man says and punches it into Heeseung’s iPhone 12 mini mint green, before handing it back. The address book entry in his cell phone reads Park Sunghoon.</p><p>Seeing his adopted stranger— Sunghoon, Heeseung reminds himself—standing in line makes him feel vaguely like he's walking his boyfriend in front of his school building.</p><p>"Excuse me," Heeseung says, and tucks the shirt tag back down, fingers brushing against Sunghoon's neck. "Your collar."</p><p>Sunghoon gives him a searching look, but Heeseung just smiles and vanishes into the frozen food aisle.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Heeseung groans and fumbles blindly for his cell phone. "Hello?" he croaks, forcing his sleep-fogged eyes to focus. 4:30 PM, his clock reads.</p><p>"I burned them," the voice on the other end says.</p><p>Heeseung scrubs at his face—"Is this Sunghoon?—" before the call's background noise makes him sit up in bed. "Is that—is that a siren?"</p><p>"So I can't go home for a bit," Sunghoon continues. "Do you live nearby?"</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Heeseung has enough time to flatten his hair and get dressed before Sunghoon shows up, but it still takes one glance for Sunghoon to ask, "Were you sleeping?"</p><p>"I had to wake up now, anyway," Heeseung says, leading Sunghoon into the elevator and punching 7. "I work nights."</p><p>They slide into awkward silence. Sunghoon smells strongly of smoke. Eventually Heeseung ventures, "Did...did you set your house on fire?"</p><p>"Just the stove," he says. "When I told Jay I was going to make cookies, he went out and bought a fire extinguisher."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Heeseung's apartment is a tiny one-bedroom. "Sorry," he says, moving a pile of books off the couch. "I wasn't expecting—do you want something to drink?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>A few minutes later, he hands Sunghoon a glass of water and sits next to him on the sofa, staring at the book on his coffee table.</p><p>"How long do you think you'll need to stay?" Heeseung asks.</p><p>"It's—okay if I stay?"</p><p>"I sort of feel responsible," Heeseung says with a little laugh. "I mean, it was my idea."</p><p>Sunghoon's giving him that searching look again, before a slight smile pulls at his lips. He ducks his head; "Just tonight," he says. "I won't bother you much."</p><p>"Your roommate's okay too, right?" Heeseung asks.</p><p>"Yeah, he's fine. He's staying with a friend of his."</p><p>Heeseung offers him sleeping supplies— an oversized t-shirt, blankets and a pillow for the couch, and directions to the laundromat. "My shift starts at eight, so I have to go," he says. "If you're hungry, you can raid the fridge. You should...probably take a shower."</p><p>Sunghoon's hands are folded on top of the heap of blankets in his lap. "Thank you," he says quietly.</p><p>Heeseung pats his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>When Heeseung gets home the next morning, he finds the blankets in a heap on the floor and his shampoo bottles left uncapped.</p><p>On the kitchen table, he also finds a sketch of himself in three-quarter profile: a few quick lines in pen that imply a nose, kind eyes, and the hint of a smile, a shirt collar framing the dip of his collarbone.</p><p>Underneath it, it reads, "Thank you, Heeseung hyung".</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"Sunghoon? Is that you?"</p><p>Sunghoon is keeling in front of a arcade machine, wearing an incredibly unflattering maintenance uniform. He turns and blinks up at Heeseung, who's standing over him. "Heeseung hyung? What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I go to school here," he says. "You...fix arcade machines?" Sunghoon nods, sitting back on his heels. A screwdriver is held loosely in his hand. "What's wrong with it?" Heeseung asks.</p><p>"Coin jam," he says. "Do you want to see?"</p><p>Heeseung crouches next to him as Sunghoon pries the side of the coin mech off and is rewarded by the sound of jangling, freed coins. "It's that easy?" he asks, incredulous.</p><p>Sunghoon chuckles, taking a few coins from the machine before he puts everything back together. "Only when I'm lucky."</p><p>When he drops a coin back into the slot, the game screen changes with a trill of sound. He casts a sly smile at Heeseung. "Do you want to play?"</p><p>"Um, I'm not very good at—"</p><p>He presses the rest of the coins into Heeseung's hand, openly grinning now. "Come on, it'll be fun."</p><p>Heeseung rolls his eyes, but obligingly puts the coins into the machine. "You owe me coffee for this," he says.</p><p>Sunghoon's left hand cradles the joystick from underneath, and Heeseung immediately knows that he's in trouble. "Sure."</p><p>Heeseung loses terribly and nearly misses his afternoon class. Despite this, the look of delight on Sunghoon's face every time K.O.!! appears on the screen makes it almost worthwhile.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"What are you studying at the Art institute of Chicago?" Sunghoon asks. As Heeseung sits down with his coffee, Sunghoon slides a pastry to him from across the table.</p><p>"I'm doing my master's in creative writing," Heeseung replies. "You finished college recently, didn't you? Are you a mechanic?"</p><p>"Computer engineer." His fingers are taking his cookie to pieces. "I'm in-between jobs right now."</p><p>"It looks like you have a job," Heeseung says gently.</p><p>Sunghoon gives a little huff of laughter. "I guess. I fix arcade machines and enter gaming competitions sometimes."</p><p>Heeseung watches the growing pyramid of cookie crumbs on Sunghoon's napkin. "Did you ever try baking cookies again?" he asks.</p><p>"With what oven," he says, deadpan.</p><p>"Well," Heeseung says, "you could always use mine."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"But you don't have cookie mix," Sunghoon says, and Heeseung laughs at him.</p><p>Careful hands show Sunghoon how to pour flour without spilling and heat the butter in the microwave just enough. "Accuracy's important," he says. "You should be a good baker—you've got an eye for detail."</p><p>"You seem like you bake a lot."</p><p>"I love cooking." Heeseung is wearing an apron and digging through his cupboards, looking for the baking soda.</p><p>"I found it," Sunghoon says.</p><p>"That's baking powder," he replies without turning.</p><p>"But they're—"</p><p>"They're different, trust me." Heeseung pulls back with the can of baking soda in his hand, and sees a look of dawning realization on Sunghoon's face. "Did you use baking powder last time?"</p><p>"I also forgot the oven was on," he admits.</p><p>"I figured as much." He fishes the measuring spoons out of the dirty measuring cup and hands them to Sunghoon. "Wash this?" When the spoons are dry again, he measures out a teaspoonful of baking soda and drops it into the dry mix. "Do you know how to crack eggs?"</p><p>Sunghoon blinks at him. "Sort of?"</p><p>"Try it," Heeseung says, reaching for the vanilla. Sunghoon starts by timidly tapping the egg against the lip of the bowl and works his way up to a nice, firm crack. "Now get your fingers in the break and split it open," he says. Sunghoon makes a face at him, and he waves the measuring spoon in admonishment. "Just do it," he says with exasperated fondness.</p><p>There are bits of shell remaining when Heeseung folds the eggs into the butter and sugar. He doesn't say anything, and Sunghoon seems to relax slightly.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"It's edible," Heeseung says. "Congratulations! Maybe if you give some to Jay, he'll forgive you."</p><p>Sunghoon bites into one. There's a brittle, crunching sound.</p><p>"…Maybe the next batch," he amends.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Sunghoon starts coming over a few days a week for cooking lessons: how to boil water, how to make rice, how to heat a skillet before adding the oil, how to take the skin off chicken without cutting any fingers off.</p><p>Heeseung's sitting on the sofa, writing, as they wait for the chicken thighs to finish baking. "Braque?" Sunghoon asks from beside him, picking the book up off of the coffee table.</p><p>"I really like modern art," Heeseung says. "Especially cubism. Did you know that there are cubist writers, too? There are more poets, though."</p><p>"Oh," Sunghoon says. "I don't know a lot about art."</p><p>"You don't? You draw, though."</p><p>"It's just a hobby," he says, flipping through the pages. He stares at a picture, squints at it, holds it at arm's length, and then starts to turn it upside-down.</p><p>"Stop it," Heeseung says with a laugh, and after a brief tussling match, the book is back in his possession. Sunghoon rests his chin on Heeseung's shoulder. "Cubism is supposed to show something from many angles at once," Heeseung explains, pointing to a page. "This is supposed to be a violin and a candlestick. The curves are the violin."</p><p>Sunghoon watches Heeseung's finger tracing the arching lines. "I guess," he says. "It still looks like a mess."</p><p>"If you really want to see a mess, you should see my bedroom," Heeseung says.</p><p>Sunghoon pulls away and looks at him. "...Can I?"</p><p>Heeseung's smile fades, but Sunghoon drops his chin back on Heeseung's shoulder, insistent. Heeseung leans forward, dislodging him, and sets the book down on the coffee table. "It really is messy," he hedges. "There's not really anything..."</p><p>Sunghoon has the most deadpan puppy-eyed look Heeseung has ever seen. "Oh, fine." He sighs. "But promise not to be mean."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Sunghoon stands in the center of the bedroom and turns slowly, taking it in.</p><p>The walls are covered in paper and string—large squares with names written on them, many of which are covered in smaller multicolored post-it notes. Red and blue strings connect the pages together, like a haphazard spider's web.</p><p>"Seoul," he reads on one larger paper. "Thailand. Britain?"</p><p>"I'm writing a novel," Heeseung explains from the doorway. "The pages are locations, and the post-its are characters, so I can track them as they move around."</p><p>Sunghoon wanders over to Tokyo and places his finger on a post-it, tracing the line that connects it to Canada. "The blue thread shows the plot that I've already decided on," Heeseung continues. "Red is stuff that I'm not sure about."</p><p>"Have you started writing anything yet?"</p><p>"Not much. Just some warm-up pieces for class."</p><p>Sunghoon is silent as he traces the threads on the walls. Heeseung waits for Sunghoon to ask, What's your novel about?, but the question never comes.</p><p>"I think the chicken's done," Heeseung says eventually. Sunghoon follows him out of the room and Heeseung closes the door behind them.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Sunghoon grabs Heeseung's hand when he's being seen out of the apartment. "Thank you," he says.</p><p>"You're welcome," Heeseung says, oddly touched. Sunghoon's fingers linger for a moment before they slip free.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>Heeseung hears a tap on the glass doors. When he looks up, Sunghoon gives him an awkward little wave.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Heeseung asks after he gets up and lets Sunghoon in. "Is everything okay?"</p><p>Sunghoon gives him a quizzical look. "You're at my job," Heeseung reminds him.</p><p>"Oh. No, everything's fine." He dumps a plastic bag onto the doorman's desk. "I brought you something."</p><p>Heeseung watches as Sunghoon pulls out a plastic container filled with boiled eggs. "That could feed a small army," he points out. The tips of Sunghoon's ears turn faintly pink.</p><p>Sunghoon ends up sitting beside the guard desk as Heeseung writes, propping his elbows on the table and breaking off pieces of the egg held in Heeseung's free hand.</p><p>"You can get your own, you know," Heeseung says, not looking up from the paper.</p><p>Sunghoon tilts his head back and drops the yolk into his mouth. "Yours tastes better."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"So really," Heeseung says after a few hours have passed, "why are you here?"</p><p>Sunghoon's doodling something, but it's hard to see what it is upside-down. "I got accepted to ILAND," he says. "I wanted to tell you."</p><p>"The engineering company you were applying to? That's great!" Sunghoon smiles down at his drawing. "...But you couldn't have just called me?"</p><p>"I wanted to celebrate," he says.</p><p>"Oh." Heeseung blinks. "Are we celebrating?"</p><p>"I made eggs," Sunghoon says, as if it's obvious.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"So what's your novel about?" Sunghoon asks. He's sprawled across the sofa beside Heeseung, reading another art book.</p><p>Heeseung leans back into the pillows. "It's a detective story."</p><p>"Oh, a murder mystery?"</p><p>"Not...exactly."</p><p>Sunghoon squirms until his head is resting on Heeseung's thigh. "Tell me about it," he says, and slowly, and Heeseung does.</p><p>"So you're writing a detective story where they spend most of their time eating," Sunghoon comments after he’s done explaining.</p><p>"It's not—they solve art thefts and travel the world!"</p><p>"And visit every fancy donut shop they can find, while they're at it," Sunghoon retorts. "You should just write a cookbook."</p><p>Heeseung growls at him.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"You're good at cooking, right?" Sunghoon says. His eyes are shining with something Heeseung's come to associate with trouble.</p><p>"I guess?" he says cautiously. "I'm not bad."</p><p>"I wanted to try something," Sunghoon says. "Do you trust me?"</p><p>"Should I?" Heeseung says with a nervous laugh.</p><p>"It's not bad," Sunghoon says. His fingers fiddle with his pen, a half-finished drawing on the paper beneath his hand.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"Sunghoon," Heeseung says, "this is my best tie."</p><p>"I could use a towel," Sunghoon offers, and Heeseung glares at him. "Close your eyes, then," he says, placing the tie across his eyes. "It's not too tight?"</p><p>"It's fine," Heeseung sighs. "What are you even doing, Sunghoon?"</p><p>"I heard that master chefs have a good sense of taste," he says. Heeseung can hear the laughter in his voice. "I wanted to see how you compared."</p><p>"I'm flattered, but—" he stops when he feels a small glass bowl put into his palm.</p><p>"Just try it." Sunghoon's voice is low and persuasive. "What's the harm?"</p><p>Heeseung frowns and starts to lean in—but then he stops. "You're going to give me chili paste," he says, smiling. There's an awkward silence. "Oh my God," he says, "is this actually chili paste?"</p><p>The glass is quickly taken from his hand. "Try this one," Sunghoon says.</p><p>"Sunghoon—"</p><p>"It's not, it's—it's something sweet, okay?"</p><p>Sunghoon's hands are over his, pushing the bowl towards him. As Heeseung continues to hesitate, they squeeze once, briefly. With a sigh, Heeseung takes a slight sniff. "Cinnamon," he says at once.</p><p>"Two for two so far," Sunghoon says as the bowl is pulled from his fingers, and Heeseung knows he's smiling.</p><p>The third bowl contains what feels like pine needles. The smell is warm and faintly spicy. He licks his lips. "Rosemary?"</p><p>Without a word, the next one is placed in his hand.</p><p>This one doesn't have a smell. The nut he puts in his mouth feels smooth and small on his tongue, and he chews slowly. "Cashew?"</p><p>"Pine nut." Heeseung jumps at the sound of Sunghoon's voice so close to his ear. A flat square lands in his palm, and Sunghoon's hand comes to rest on his shoulder. "Two more."</p><p>The taste is bitter and rich, spreading throughout his mouth before he swallows. He takes a long minute before he answers, savoring it. "Chocolate," he whispers.</p><p>"Mm-hmm."</p><p>Heeseung waits for the last one, but his hands remains empty. He opens his mouth to say something when he feels warm fingers press against his mouth. His breath ghosts across Sunghoon's fingers in short puffs as they slowly smear honey across his bottom lip, then dip into the corner of his mouth, finding his tongue. Heeseung's head tilts up to meet it, tongue curling around Sunghoon's thumb and licking it clean with slow, languid swipes.</p><p>Sunghoon lets out a soft, choked sound as his thumb slips free of Heeseung's mouth. In the next moment, Sunghoon is kissing him, hands streaking honey through Heeseung's hair as he licks the sweetness from his mouth.</p><p>Heeseung slips the tie from his eyes and drags Sunghoon into his lap.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>The next morning, Heeseung wakes up to the smell of burning.</p><p>He bolts out of bed and skids into the kitchen to see Sunghoon clicking the vent on. Then, the fire alarm goes off.</p><p>"I'll get it," he shouts over the beeping and runs for the hallway armed with a towel. A few ear-splitting, towel-flapping seconds later, he returns to the kitchen to find Sunghoon scraping at what appears to be a pile of burned shavings in the middle of a pan.</p><p>He hands Sunghoon the towel and turns the stove off. "What happened?" he asks, not really awake.</p><p>"I was trying to make pancakes," Sunghoon mumbles.</p><p>Heeseung squints at the pan. Its contents are unrecognizable as any sort of food. "Did you use oil?"</p><p>"I thought it was Teflon."</p><p>"I don't use Teflon. It's carcinogenic."</p><p>Sunghoon opens the windows, then runs for the fire alarm again as Heeseung fetches the trash can and dumps the whole mess into it. By the time he comes back, Heeseung is setting the pan into the sink to soak.</p><p>He turns back and sees Sunghoon staring at the floor. "It's not that bad," he says. When there's no response, Heeseung walks over and squishes Sunghoon's cheeks with his hands until a fish-face is looking up at him. He laughs at Sunghoon's nonplussed expression and kisses his forehead. "At least you didn't make a mess of the counters or anything."</p><p>"I can try again," Sunghoon says, the words coming out garbled.</p><p>Heeseung lets his face go with a sigh. "Let's go out, for once," he says. "There's a good breakfast place right around the—" but Sunghoon's reaching for him, pulling him down for a kiss. It's going well, until Sungjoon's hand gets stuck in Heeseung's hair.</p><p>"Honey was a terrible idea," Sunghoon says critically.</p><p>Heeseung laughs. "Maybe a shower, first," he says, "and then we can go out to eat."</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"I was waiting for you, actually," Sunghoon says half an hour later as they walk down the hall. Heeseung's shaking his fingers out from where they've gripped the fake gun too tightly.</p><p>"Hmm? What is it?"</p><p>Sunghoon takes a breath. "Jay wants his boyfriend, Jungwon to move in with him since our apartment's bigger, and..."</p><p>Heeseung glances at Sunghoon, amused. "And?" he prompts.</p><p>"And I was wondering if you would want a roommate," Sunghoon says in a rush.</p><p>Heeseung comes to a stop. "I don't need a roommate. Where would I put him?"</p><p>Sunghoon turns to face him. "Oh. Wait, what?"</p><p>Heeseung shakes his head before he wraps Sunghoon in a hug. "You're my boyfriend!" he says, laughing. "Of course you can live with me."</p><p>"You are so confusing sometimes," Sunghoon says, muffled, into his shoulder.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"Don't help," Sunghoon says.</p><p>"I won't," Heeseung agrees and sits down at the table to watch.</p><p>Sunghoon moves through the kitchen easily after months of working in the space. He pulls out knives and bowls, organizes the vegetables into a row on the counter, and drops the chicken into the hot water to soak.</p><p>"What are you making?"</p><p>"It's a surprise," he says, centering the onion on the chopping board.</p><p>Heeseung eyes the wok on the stove. "Is it stir-fry?"</p><p>Sunghoon just pouted at him.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>The vegetables are chopped unevenly and the chicken's a little greasy, but it's not bad for a first try, and the wine is super delicious. Heeseung pops an experimental piece of chicken into his mouth and chews, then beams at Sunghoon. "It's good! It's not too salty and it's cooked all the way through."</p><p>"Well, I'm a quick learner," Sunghoon says, proudly while smirking.</p><p>"And I'm a good teacher," Heeseung replies.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>"Hey," Sunghoon says, thoughtfully, "do you think next time I cook, we could invite Jay and his boyfriend over?"</p><p>Heeseung swallows more wine than he means to and ends up coughing. "Um, maybe that sounds like a two person job, don't you think?"</p><p>Sunghoon's eyes narrow.</p><p>"I just mean, that's a lot of people. You could probably use some help! You could take all the credit, if you want," he offers.</p><p>"I"m not going to burn down your kitchen."</p><p>"Who said anything about burning down my kitchen?" Heeseung says, then hurriedly adds, "But, please don't burn down my kitchen."</p><p>"You already have my safety deposit—"</p><p>"Do you know how hard it is to get smoke out of clothes?"</p><p>Sunghoon doesn't say anything.</p><p>"It is very hard," Heeseung tells him sadly.</p><p>__________________________________</p><p>And when Jay, and Jungwon arrived at Heeseung's apartment with Sunghoon serving them nicely cooked lasagna, Jay's eyes almost popped off his sockets.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there was an attempt</p><p>I WROTE YHIS FOR LIKE WEEKS??? I STARTED WRITING THIS ON SUNGHOON'S BDAY BUT I JUST FINISHED IT NOW</p></blockquote></div></div>
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